


Her One

by xshippingshipsx



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: I'm a potato, Multi, So yeah, This is my first work, have fun reading my shit, it might suck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xshippingshipsx/pseuds/xshippingshipsx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lili Durin was taken many years ago when she was in the woods playing with her two older brothers, Kili and Fili Durin.  Everything seemed to be at peace until she was taken from under their noses during a simple-minded game of hide-and-seek.  The two brothers searched for hours trying to find their beloved baby sister, but to no avail.  She had been taken and they did not know by whom.  The hearts of many were broken when the brothers returned and they felt an almost-wrath from their Uncle Thorin.  <br/>Lili was scared and confused when she awoke to a diminutive, dark, dirty damp cell.  She was shackled to the wall and had no idea of what had happened.  All she had remembered was two faces, filled with joy and laughter as they chased her around and felt happy upon recalling the memory of the sun shining and happiness radiating from her and the two older boys.  Little did she know that would be the last of the two she would expereince for man years to come.  But when she does, she never expected it to come from a human who looks to be a little older than herself.  <br/>Her One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her One

**Prelude- Family Finding’s Lili’s POV**

Pain and suffering is all that I can remember. Only faint memories of happy faces whose names I cannot recall. They all seemed so happy and when I remember really hard, I can realize that this may have been my family before I was taken. Or am I just delusional?

As I stand beside the Goblin King--being his servant--I realize that the gongs and drums begin to bang and clang, someone must have been caught in his domain. I stand with my skeletal hands held behind my back as a large group of the wretched creatures that surround some small men--well tall compared to me, but small none the less--come parading up to the kings throne.

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?” The ugly brute spits to the tiny men, “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?”

“Dwarves, your malevolence,” Grinnah states. So I was correct in calling them tiny men, though also my kin.

“Dwarves?” The King turns to me now, “Look, people like you, small and near useless.” I know to ignore his comment, as it only gets me in trouble if I respond.

“We found them on the front porch.” He seems to ignore his last statement, though I see his eyes glance over at me as he smirks.

“Well, don’t just stand there; search them! Every crack! Every crevice!” The goblins toss the dwarves around and rid them of most of their things, many being weapons. Even ones trumpet was taken and smashed. I bet he cannot hear very well now.

“What are you doing in these parts? Speak!” The King says after they are searched. Although I should be used to the feeling, I cannot help but sense a pair of eyes resting on my small frail form. I look up and not surprisingly I see two of the younger dwarves looking at me with their eyes nearly out of their heads. They seem in the slightest way familiar.

“Well then, if they won’t talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler. Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest.” His patience is wearing thin and I see a rather small and innocent looking dwarf shrink back in fear slightly. Before any of them could be further injured though, the man who seems to be the leader steps forward and he--like the other two--looks familiar.

“Wait.”

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror; King Under the Mountain.” Thorin, why does the name ring a distant bell in the far depths of my mind? “Oh, but I am forgetting, you don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king. Which makes you nobody, really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a Whit Ward.” At this Thorin looks up with surprise dripping from his features.

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago.” There seems to be finality in his voice with much disbelief at the Great Goblins words.

“Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize.” The King says to a goblin who sits in a basket attached to a rope, parchment and ink ready. He begins to write as he descends from his original spot, disappearing below.

A short time later, the King is dancing and singing a rather putrid song about bones shattering and necks ringing. Suddenly I see Grinnah pick up one of the swords and cower back as if it burned his skin and everyone stops and cowers. The king becomes the most scared and jumps onto his throne.

“I know that sword! The Goblin-Cleaver, the Biter, the blade that sliced thousands necks.” The dwarves then are beaten and whipped as the king still cowers in fear. I know the pain of those whips and I feel guilt at the fact that I cannot do anything to help them, “Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!”

Grinnah then jumps on top of Thorin and raises a blade as others hold him down. As he is about to bring the blade down and I jump forward to stop him, there is a large explosion of white light and everyone gets blown backwards, and I forward. I land on top of the blonde dwarf that was staring at me before and he just looks at me with tear vealed eyes.

“Lili.” His voice is airy and breathless and I wonder how he knows my name, “By Durin it is you. My sister! My dear Lili!” My eyes widen at his words and I cannot believe what he is saying as he sits up and pulls me to his chest. I simply do nothing and only does a strong voice break him from me.

“Take up arms. Fight. Fight!” An old grey haired, bearded, clothed and hatted man says.

“He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater, bright as daylight!” The wretched Goblin King yells. The yellow-bearded man who knows my name stood and picked me up. The dark haired one who was looking at me before looks at me once again.

“Lili.” His voice is quiet in the loudness of dwarves killing orcs, but I hear it nonetheless. “We will get you out of this place, my dear sister.” They both called me sister and they are both familiar, they must be my brothers surely. Yet I don’t even know their names.

Soon the Great Goblin is dead and we are all running through the caves, chased my hundreds of goblins.

“Only one thing will save us: daylight! Come on! Here, on your feet!” We continue to run until we reach the exit of the cave and already the blazing sun is painful to me. I have not seen it in so, so many years. I clamp my eyes shut in pain and bury my head into the neck of my yellow-haired brother, his beard tickling my nose.

As we all come to a stop I slowly lift up my head and look around me at the gorgeous and green forest. I jump out of my brothers arms and bend down and feel the grass. I look around in amazement and my eyes then rest upon Thorin, a similar look in his eyes.

“Li-Lili? Is it really you? My niece,” So this man is my uncle. I can barely form that thought as he engulfs me in a tight embrace and he buries his head into my shoulder. Slowly, I wrap my arms around his middle as years of memories with these three men come flooding into my mind, along with a beautiful woman who I do not have a name for. As I break away from my Uncle and turn to my brothers.

“Kili? Fili?” My voice is small and breaks due to not using it in so long. Tears begin to slip from my eyes as they bring my small frame between their much larger ones. I may be close in height but I am beyond skinny, the only thing on me is the little muscle I have gained from serving the King. They both hug me tightly and stuff their faces into my long, unkempt black hair.

The three of us are broken apart by a blood curdling cry, and only then do I notice the small, hobbit looking man that has joined our group.

“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin says with a grim look.

“And into the fire! Run! RUN!” The tall gray man says in haste. We all begin to run and I cannot help but fall behind in the slightest, my bones and muscles are not used to this exertion and I already feel weak. Kili slows down so he is behind me and picks me up, I cling to him for my life as I force myself not to look back.

Kili runs in time with Fili and I cannot help but to take a small glance behind me, only to see the small hobbit fighting off a warg. It runs towards him and he holds up his sword, the beast running its head right into the blade. A few more of the wargs catch up to our rag tag group, but are quickly killed and the run continues.

We come to a small outcropping, the ledge drops off a few hundred feet. I still hold to my brother for dear life as the old wizard tells us to climb into the trees. Fili climbs up first and Kili helps boost me up into the tree. The hold that was on my brunette brother now resides on the tree as many of the wargs circle below.

Suddenly, I look up the mountain and not too far away from our group in the trees is a Pale Orc riding a Pale Warg. His face, chest, and arms are covered in nasty, deep scars, and his face is set in something between a snarl and a smirk.

“Azog!?” Thorin seems frightened, and that is all that I need to feel the same.

“Nuzdigid? Nuzdi gast?(Do you smell it? The scent of fear?)” I cannot tell what he is saying but I know that the language is dark. “Ganzilig-i unarug obod nauzdanish, Torin undag Train-ob.(I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.)”

“It cannot be.” His voice is pained and I wish I could understand Azog’s words. “Kod, Toragid bariz.(That one is mine.)” The Pale Orc’s attention is now on the wargs and their riders. “Worori-da!(Kill the others!)” The wargs begin the leapt and claw at the base of the trees, trying to get up to us. I can barely hold on as the tree shakes violently, and I can see the other dwarves having the same problem--along with the hobbit and wizard. “Sho gad adol!(Drink their blood!)”

The tree that is in front of me and closest to Azog begins to fall over due to the pressure from the Wargs below. As that tree lands on my tree, all of the dwarves just barely jump onto the one that already has most of the company, and like dominoes, this one falls as well. Eventually, we all end up in the tree on the edge of the cliff.

“Fili!” I hear Gandalf yell down. He holds a flaming pinecone and drops it down to my brother. I grab one as well as the others, and we all set them blazing and throw them down onto the dry grass that is before Azog below. The flames catch and the Wargs and Orcs on the other side--a few with their mangy pelts on fire--and Azog roars in anger as some of us yell in some form of victory. But soon any form of excitement is turned into that of fear as the tree that the 15 of us are currently residing in begins to tip backwards toward the edge of the cliff.

I look up from my tight hold on the tree to see me uncle walking down the trunk with his sword drawn, a dark look on his face. Not only is this happening but now Ori is hanging from Dori’s boot as Dori hangs from Gandalfs staff, barely hanging on. Horror must be dripping from my features as my Uncle runs through the thick flames toward the white beast, who just grind maliciously and spreads his arms wide. Nothing but an oaken branch to shield him, he continues to run and that’s when Azog crouches down. Then he springs back up, his warg managing to hit Thorin in his chest, sending him flying to the ground.

The next few minutes seem to blur as most of the dwarves manage to get off of the tree and fight. But I continue to hold onto the tree, for I fear that if I were to move even a muscle that they would give and I would fall to my death. I hear a sudden yelp as I look over to where Gandalf, Ori and Dori once were, but now only see the wizard. Looking around me I see many large eagles that begin to pick up the rest of the company and I eventually get licked up and dropped onto another's back. The eagle on which whom I now hold dearly to, I realize that there are two others on this one as well. Fili and Kili are holding onto both myself and the bird tightly.

“Thorin!” Fili yells. I follow his gaze to see my dear Uncle unconscious in the the talons of one of the many large birds. My heart feels heavy as I see his seemingly lifeless form lay there with no way of helping him. All I can do for the time being is hold onto my brothers whom I have not seen in years, how many I do not know, and watch as the sun slowly rises.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the characters in this story other than the ones of my own creations. All rights go to J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. -Sarah O.


End file.
